


Like Two Ships in the Night

by Chinita52



Series: SWTOR: The Eight Sisters [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-05-13 04:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chinita52/pseuds/Chinita52
Summary: The holocall on Hutta was not the first encounter between the woman known as Cipher Nine and the man known as Keeper.  As it so happens, they've known each other for many, many years, and while destiny seems to want them together, she might be the only one that doesn't want to tear them apart.  A little love story featuring my main agent character, since I was always sad about the inability to flirt with Keeper/Minister of Intelligence in-game.





	1. Small but Fierce

Although Keeper could barely recall the time when he had a name instead of a designation, Cipher Nine was still young enough to remember when she was still Luzamilla, and the moment when she lost that identity was a bittersweet one. It was a moment she had both dreamed of and dreaded, one that had been planned for many years, and yet she knew it would be the death of the only thing she had inherited from the mother she never knew. When Keeper bestowed upon her the title of Cipher Nine, she looked deep into his eyes in search of any sign that he remembered or even recognized at all the identity he was permanently erasing. As usual, however, his body language betrayed absolutely nothing.

Nine's thoughts began to drift back to her childhood as an orphan on the streets of Kaas City. Her early life had been spent living in the shadow of the great skyscrapers wherein dwelt the rich and powerful of the Sith Empire, her food earned by scrounging through their trash and fighting with other street children when pick-pocketing wasn't bringing in enough credits. By the age of 10 her nose had already once been broken by the fist of a much larger child and had thus grown to be noticeably crooked, and her body and face were both adorned by scars from attempts (some successful but most not) to take whatever scant resources she had acquired for herself. What might have been a fanciable complexion was usually obscured by dirt, and her long, light brown tresses that might have been beautiful under better conditions was almost always knotted and hastily tied into something vaguely resembling a bun.

All this aside, the man who would become Keeper was struck instantly by her brilliant blue eyes of a shade that was rarely seen (unlike his own, a pale blue-grey color found in half the humans of the Empire, it seemed), blurred by tears in that moment but still filled with life and and a certain something else that he found rather intriguing yet indescribable at once. She had taken note of his uniform and seemed to be begging him for help, though either pride or fear or a combination of the two kept her from doing so verbally. Normally unwilling to meddle in the inconsequential affairs of civilians, especially children, whose problems were typically the most inconsequential of all, he still felt an inclination to ask this child what was wrong.

Luzamilla was, for her part, rather surprised that this imposing officer chose to sit down on that park bench next to her, perhaps even as surprised as he himself was. She found him decidedly handsome, even if she wasn't yet old enough to perceive him as attractive, and where others saw coldness and hard discipline, she immediately caught onto a certain hidden warmth inside of him, just as one might find in a stern father.

"What's wrong, child?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice as he laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Why all the tears?"

"I'm so hungry," she responded between tears. "I had finally managed to get enough credits for a pack of nutrition bars that would last me a long time, but a group of young Sith acolytes took all of them. They were awful, they said if I didn't give it to them they'd kill me for it because I needed to learn to respect them. I told them they'd not take my money without a fight."

"I find myself impressed by the mere fact that they only succeeded in taking your credits and not your life," the officer said with a smile. "It must have been quite a fight. Even the youngest of Sith in training are still considerably dangerous."

"I can handle them. The fact that they know how to use lightsabers and can use the Force doesn't make them any more than bullies, and I've had plenty of experience with those."

"You seem to be quite the little fighter. What's your name?"

"Luzamilla. Everyone calls me Luzie though. What's your name?"

"Watcher."

"That's too odd to be a real name."

"You're very right. In my line of work we don't use our real names, only titles."

"What is your line of work?"

"I work for Imperial Intelligence. What I do beyond that, no civilian is allowed to know, not even a girl like you."

"I understand," she said softly, almost dejectedly. She was genuinely curious about him.

"Well, Luzie, I'm not in any position to confront Sith of any rank as you are, but I will happily buy you real food, along with as many nutrition bars as your little heart desires. Do you like Mandalorian?" he asked. The girl nodded affirmatively in response, and the pair happily walked towards the Kaas City market, where they would spend the next few hours chatting over Mandalorian street food.

It was one good memory in an overwhelming, tumultuous sea of bad ones for Cipher Nine. She would remember the handsome Intelligence officer known as Watcher over the next few years, hoping one day their paths would cross again. In a city of millions, he was one of the extremely small handful that had ever treated her with any decency, much less the sort of kindness he had shown her. In her darkest moments, she would cling to his imagine in her mind, reliving the carefree afternoon they had spent together over and over again.

At the tender age of sixteen, just on the cusp of womanhood, Luzamilla had found herself employment. It was by no means respectable work, for the only work available to a girl of her age and standing rarely was, and one of the only jobs in that category that also paid enough for even the cheapest of apartments was the type of work to be found in a brothel. Too young for clients at first, she was essentially a servant to the women working there, cleaning and running errands and other menial tasks. When her body began to develop a more womanly shape, she was made a dancer, almost as if she were a living advertisement displaying the offerings of the brothel. The boss, however, had decided that this was the night she would commence her work as a full prostitute, and despite her scars and crooked nose, she was now considered beautiful enough to be put on display and have her virginity auctioned off to the highest bidder, a privilege reserved for girls who had the most potential. In the crowd of crime lords, gangsters, corrupt politicians, and soldiers on shore leave looking for a way to unwind, a few of whom were regular clients, her attention was drawn to a single familiar face. There in the shadows was the dark-haired, grey-eyed man of her memories, now dressed in civilian clothes and with a little less hair than she remembered. It was now that she began to feel something strange growing within her, something that made her put more effort and passion into her dance, that made her heart skip a beat if her thoughts dwelt upon him for too long and sparked a warmth between her thighs that she had never felt before. It was an awakening, one that she didn't completely understand yet, but it didn't matter. She was pulsating with desire. She wanted him in ways she never knew she could want a person before.

She was ecstatic to find he had in fact been the highest bidder. She gently led him by the hand to the upper floor of the brothel and into one of the private rooms, her heart racing from anticipation and anxiety all at once, her mind questioning if he might feel the same way, or if he might recognize her like she did him. She knew it was too much to ask under the circumstances, but she silently hoped that on her first night she wouldn't be treated merely as a disposable object, a mere provider of a service who had no name or importance beyond her ability to give physical pleasure. When she finished locking the door behind them, she could instantly tell something was off about his behavior- away from the scrutiny of others he was no longer behaving like a typical client. The tension, the desire, it had all cooled as if on cue. His mind was preoccupied by something else, even if he was trying his hardest not to show it. It didn't surprise her, however. The man she knew as a child didn't seem anything like the men who usually came to them.

"You're not here just to enjoy our services, are you, sir?" she said quietly. He didn't let his guard down and began instead fiddling with the metal slave dancer's brassiere she wore in hopes of distracting her.

"I don't know what you mean," he lied. "I've paid a lot of money to enjoy your company tonight, I hope it won't be for nothing."

"Tell me why you're really here. You're not like the others who come here."

"Alright, I see there's no point in trying to fool you. You're much more perceptive than I anticipated, and I see now won't get away with finishing my assignment without either your cooperation or your termination, though I'd hate to dispose of such a lovely young woman."

"Anything you want, I'll do, I promise, sir. You did pay for me for the night."

"I'm glad we see eye to eye. There's a Republic spy who intends to dead-drop top-secret intel on Imperial troop movements. Our objective is to identify and track him, switch the intel with false reports to sabotage any Republic attacks, and bug the place so that we can identify his network of accomplices as well."

"Very thorough," Luzamilla noted.

"I like to think I'm good at my job," he responded. "Accompany me when we're finished, I want us to be seen leaving together to avoid arousing suspicion." He knew that was an excuse. She knew it was an excuse. Neither of them said as much.

When their work was finished, he took off his jacket and draped it gently around her shoulders to protect her both from the rain and the unwanted looks of strange men. Knowing that going to his own apartment would be an unnecessary risk at worst and the potential cause of a scandal at best, he let her bring him back to her own apartment in the underbelly of the city where she had always resided. It was cramped, barely more than a closet just big enough for a bed and an extremely compact kitchen with a bathroom attached, but it was the only real home she had ever managed to live in. They sat down on the edge of the bed, unsure of what they would do next. Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, Luzamilla found the courage to say what had been on her mind since the moment she saw his face in the crowd.

"Do you..." she began nervously. "Do you remember me at all?"

"I'd like to believe I'd remember meeting someone as beautiful as you," he responded. "Although to be honest, I think I've only seen eyes that shade of blue once before in my life. They belonged to a little street girl I bought food for once in this city, but I never saw her again after that." At this a small tear of joy came to Luzamilla's eye.

"You do remember," she said softly, her tears holding her voice back. "It was me, sir. I was that little girl, and I never forgot how good you were to me." His face twisted into a strange expression of delight and disappointment all at once.

"I was hoping it wasn't really you. To see you working in the red light district is a reminder that I could have done more to help you that day, but I failed you," he said, his head hung low in shame. "I'm sorry, Luzie. Please believe me, I truly am."

"Don't be. You showed me more kindness than anyone else in this city ever has, and I will always be grateful for that." He lifted his head up to gaze at her, studying every detail of her and how she had changed after all these years.

"You grew to be so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined," he said, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. "I almost feel guilty for the desire I feel right now."

"Almost?" she said, more teasingly than she had perhaps intended.

"I suppose that since I already paid for your company it would be a shame to let it go to waste, even if in my head I still see the little girl I took to the market all those years ago. You're a woman now, and a very attractive one at that." She was blushing furiously, and her lips were reddened and slightly swollen, giving away her arousal. Her eyes widened as she looked down to see the growing bulge in his trousers, and something between fear and excitement rushed through her. Her body want this, without question, but her mind was still locked in debate.

There wasn't time for her mind to decide. He had already begun kissing her, his hands seemingly everywhere on her body at once, and soon the metal top was off, revealing her pale breasts. She trembled, uncertain of how to react to his touch, but there was no need to- he knew what he was doing, and had enough skill to make up for her lack of experience.

"Don't be scared," he reassured her softly as the last bits of both their clothing came off. "I promise I won't hurt you." And in that moment, she entrusted all of her being to him, unsure of herself but confident he would keep his word.

The morning found her alone, wrapped in bed sheets that still carried his scent with a distinct soreness between her legs. He hadn't left a note or any way to contact him, he had simply vanished in the earliest hours of the morning while she had still been dreaming of him. After a moment of laying in bed clinging to the pillow where he had rested his head, she looked at the kitchen cabinets and realized he had left her something after all- a small chip, hidden on the underside of one of the cabinets in a spot where only someone who knew to be looking for something might have found it. The data on the chip was contact information for a recruiter at Imperial Intelligence.


	2. The Lies We Tell

The next five years changed Luzamilla more than she could have imagined, in ways she could have never dreamed. The girl she was before, as tough as she might have seemed, was dead and gone (literally as well as figuratively, as a completely new identity had to be forged so she could even be eligible for service, given her background), replaced by the cold, calculating killer the Imperial Navy and the Intelligence Academy demanded she be. Many who had entered into training at her side had fallen, either out of physical or mental weakness. She had persisted. She had thrived. She had graduated top of her class. Where once was a wild, untamed fighter focused solely on survival, there was now a disciplined, scheming mind controlling an ever stronger body. Physically she had been transformed as well- upon completing her training, Intelligence provided surgical procedures for future field agents to both increase attractiveness and minimize any physical traits that might become too recognizable, for anonymity and seduction were two of the most valuable tools an agent could use. Gone were her scars, replaced by flawless, porcelain flesh. Her crooked nose was fixed, her chin and jaw made slimmer, her lips fuller, her waist smaller, and her hair color was altered to a more standard dark brown hue, among other things. The entire basic structure of her face had been slightly altered. They had offered to change her eye color to a more common color such as brown or hazel, or even a less intense shade of blue, but this was the only procedure she had refused, arguing that she would only do it if a mission made it absolutely necessary.

Then came her first mission: Hutta. She had been excited to see the galaxy when she enlisted, but the very sight of Hutta from space, a large orb of green and yellow haze that suggested a less than pleasant atmosphere, was already enough to disgust her. Upon landing on the planet, her fears were confirmed- the whole world smelled worse than any dumpster she had been forced to rummage through as a child. The way she carried herself, however, would have made one think she had lived on the planet her whole life and was accustomed to the acrid air. Upon making contact with headquarters in one of the shady backrooms of the Poison Pit cantina, she was shocked to find her handler was none other than the man she had once called Watcher- now Keeper, she had to remind herself. She liked the new designation. It suited him better, in her mind.

Whether or not he was simply pretending or genuinely didn't recognize her after so many years and so many surgeries, she nonetheless played along and feigned ignorance of his identity. It was the safest thing to do- there were regulations against fraternization (even if they were often ignored), and, more importantly, a mission to be completed. Pretending was easy, it was most of what she had been trained to do, but pretending didn't keep her from feeling her heart sink when she shut off the holocom, having gone an entire conversation without even the slightest, most subtle hint that he knew who she was. She knew full well to expect nothing less from him, but it didn't stop a wave of disappointment from overcoming her. In her mind, she recited the Sith code, knowing that even as a non-Sith its philosophy was something to live by. _Turn the pain into power_ , she told herself. _Finish the mission, and finish it well._

Keeper was more impressed by his newest agent's work than he let on. He gave her little praise for her work, and though she did her best to hide it, he could see her light up. She was eager to please, all at once loyal and patriotic to a fault yet pragmatic and willing to do whatever it took, no matter how brutal, to serve the Empire. Most lost their idealism in their first few missions, if not during training. This one was unshakable. He had gone through her official file, where he found nothing of particular interest- an average, middle-class childhood on Dromund Kaas, two doting parents who had died in a speeder accident not long before she had enlisted in the navy, top of her class in both academies. Nothing was out of order, nothing seemed imperfect. That was what puzzled him. He had known many new recruits who had come from the sort of background described in this file, few of whom could compete with her because they simply hadn't struggled before enlisting. They had comfortable homes and lives to return to, something they were afraid of losing. The beautiful brunette on Hutta clearly didn't.

The agent's return to Dromund Kaas was nothing short of chaotic, with terrorists suddenly emerging from the shadows everywhere and thousands of people, including a member of the Dark Coucil, killed in one of their boldest attacks yet. There wasn't a single free moment for Keeper or Luzamilla to stop and catch their breath, much less give any thought to each other, not until the terror cell on Dromund Kaas was back under control and she was assigned to her new mission on Balmorra. She'd have one night at home before leaving with the dawn for the war-torn world, and all she wanted was a good night's sleep, though Kaliyo had insisted upon cheap drinks and dinner at the Nexus Room before they parted. Upon arriving in a slightly intoxicated state to the same shabby apartment she had kept ever since she had an income high enough to afford a place of her own, she was shocked to find Keeper sitting on the edge of her bed, reading from a datapad as if he had simply made himself at home.

"What in Emperor's name are you doing here? How did you find this place?" she damn near shrieked.

"Cipher, you may not realize this, but I have an extremely sharp memory despite the amount of information my mind processes on an average day of work. I recall being in this very room about five years ago with a lovely young woman who I'd never forget, even if she had gone through surgical and cosmetic procedures to standardize her appearance and illegally sliced into Imperial data banks to create a more acceptable identity for the Imperial Navy," Keeper said, an subtle but unexpectedly harsh tone in his voice. Luzamilla wasn't sure if she should grin or glare angrily, and so stood staring at him wide-eyed with a loss for words. "You'll have to do better if you want to hide from me, Luzie. Only you weren't hiding, were you?"

"I don't know what you expect me to say, Keeper. I don't even know what I want to say."

"Then don't say anything at all," he responded. "You've tried your best to hide every other sign of it, but the look in your eyes when you see me has told me all I really need to know. Officially I can't reciprocate your feelings for me, Cipher. In fact, I shouldn't condone them at all, because you know perfectly well fraternization between keepers and their agents is strictly forbidden."

"I know, sir," she said, pursing her lips and lowering her gaze to the floor. Suddenly, she felt him gently slip a finger under her chin and tilt her head upwards so their eyes could meet. Before she knew it, she was pressed against his chest, locked in a warm, comforting embrace.

"For once in my life I'd like to throw the entire handbook out the airlock, just so I can be free to have moments like these with you." His heart melted as he saw a small smile come to her lips and a tear of joy come to her eye when he said that. "But I can't go against regulations, Luzie, not when you have a brilliant career at stake. You're far too young for me, and I'm not worth tossing away your future for." The smile disappeared instantly, but she pulled him closer, afraid it would be the last time they could enjoy the warmth of each other's arms.

"Five years I waited," she whispered. "At least I can have you close again now."

"I'll always be close by from now on, Luzie, even if it's not in the way we would have liked." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before letting her go and walking towards the door. "Stay safe, for my sake and yours, agent." He left without saying a single word more.

Kaliyo was curious as to why her new boss was so exhausted as they were preparing to depart for Balmorra the next morning. She acted as if nothing was wrong, but the dark circles under her eyes and the notable preoccupation that was the opposite of what Kaliyo had come to expect from her told a different story. How could she tell this woman she barely knew about the past experiences and feelings she worked so hard to keep hidden, especially when the mission ahead of them was far too important for anything to distract them?


	3. The Sith and the Cipher

The voyage to Balmorra required a detour to Korriban as requested by Darth Zhorrid, the former apprentice of her father, Darth Jadus, whose seat on the Dark Council she would be assuming. She couldn't have been very much older than Luzamilla herself, and it showed- she tried her best to impose upon the agent with all the authority and terror of an elder member, but unfortunately (or fortunately, for Luzamilla in any case) she only came off as a spoiled, angry child with pyschopathic tendencies and more power than she knew what to do with. Even after ordering her guards to kill her and Kaliyo for mere entertainment (short-lived, to say the least, as the guards simply weren't matches for Imperial Intelligence's best), the agent couldn't bring herself to genuinely fear Zhorrid like she did her father. The Sith was testing her, and the agent wasn't having any of it.

It was a relief to be off Korriban, not just due to the rather frustrating encounter with Zhorrid, but due to the general lack of love and loyalty Luzamilla felt towards the Sith. She loved her job when it came to serving the Empire, or rather ordinary people of the Empire as she had been, but her childhood encounters with the Sith and her experiences dealing with them as an Intelligence agent had left her with the impression that they were nothing more than a group of self-serving, self-absorbed bullies and tyrants. Her job, in fact everyone's job, in her mind, would be decidedly much easier without their constant interference, and as ruthless as Luzamilla could be, she never took a life without considering other options and their possible outcomes. Too many Sith killed for sport, which beyond being cruel was counterproductive, as sh saw it. Her frustration with them boiled within her until she plotted her course to Balmorra and could finally let off the steam while watching the calming blue swirls of hyperspace.

The mission on Balmorra was sobering, if only because her contact in Sobrik was anything but. Lekern Renald, Sobrik's Station Chief, had, as it quickly became apparent, been through much that wounded him deeply, the physical scars having long been healed and covered up, but others still causing him the sort of pain that required alcohol to dull it. For all his drunken joviality, he couldn't hide from Cipher the fact that he was very much a scarred man. As she worked on infiltrating the resistance cell she had been sent to sabotage, the question occasionally crept into her mind like an early morning fog: would she, too, find herself in the same broken state someday? But there was no room in a cipher agent's mind for such thoughts, so she quickly pushed them away, one by one like she did with any other doubts she had. _Just finish the job, and finish it well,_ she would repeat to herself silently. When she finally did, Keeper was, as usual, pleased with her results.

If Balmorra was sobering, Nar Shadaa was a hard slap to the face. While there, Cipher found herself darting in and out of Shadow Town, a dark place she had heard of only in rumors, where many former agents and other Imperial officials were forced to enjoy an early retirement within its confines, lest they set off a bomb inside their heads. It appeared to be an ordinary slum, with no cages or towering fences in sight and very few guards, but the inhabitants were anything but ordinary if Watcher X was any sort of example. As a product of the Imperial eugenics program, every single part of him, mind and body, was property of the Imperial government. Cipher had been born under completely different circumstances, and yet upon joining Intelligence, she had voluntarily surrendered some of her individual autonomy to the very same organization that had created him. Any show of rebellion, any momentary disobedience to her oath to the Empire, and she could easily find herself spending the rest of her days here on this lawless moon of eternal night, a bomb in her skull keeping her in her place. She couldn't live like that, she realized. Despite all the struggles she had had in her childhood in Kaas City, she had grown up with the small pleasures of gentle rains on her face and the sight of a million stars above her at night when the clouds cleared, and a sea of trees visible just beyond the city walls. But Nar Shadaa was nothing but plastisteel and neon lights. The air itself felt palpable with artificiality, it choked her with it, and she silently prayed to the Force and the Emperor that she would not meet her fate in a place like Shadow Town. Needless to say, she was eager to finish the mission at hand as soon as humanly possible.

It was therefore particularly unfortunate that Darth Zhorrid picked the moment of Cipher's planned departure to force her wholly unwanted presence back into the agent's life- and by having the audacity to completely lock down her prized ship until she completed a task for her, no less. The task was the retrieval of a man, a single miserable man who had gone into hiding upon the death of his master, Darth Jadus. Cipher contemplated quite seriously ignoring the Sith's commands and hopping on a shuttle off world just to avoid being trapped, but it was Keeper who convinced her to do whatever it was Zhorrid had demanded of her, and how could she ever say no to the man she had joined Intelligence for?

Zhorrid must have sensed that. Cipher was horrified to arrive in Zhorrid's office in Kaas City, only to find Keeper on his knees before the Sith, having already withstood Force knows how much torture. Rage burned inside her, rage at seeing the man she adored humiliated and wounded by an arrogant child. As much as she felt compelled to rush to his side and aide him, however, she knew she couldn't. The Sith was testing her weaknesses, and to react so strongly to seeing Keeper hurt would only put a target on his back. She would let him feel pain now with the hope that it would save him further pain in the future.

"It's not what he did," Zhorrid had chided when Cipher demanded an explanation, her voice dripping with arrogance and pretended authority. "It's what _you_ did." Suddenly she was the little girl in the street again, facing another Sith bully trying to take something that was hers. Only this time she couldn't fight back, not here or now if she wanted everyone to stay alive, particularly Keeper. The amount of self-restraint it took for her to maintain her silence when Zhorrid had the audacity to say she was growing bored with torturing him was quite possibly more than she had ever had to use in all her years of life, and she did her best to hide her sigh of relief when he was finally allowed to leave.

The second she could, Cipher took off running back towards Intelligence headquarters. Keeper was much stronger and more resilient than his age would suggest; despite the pained limp present during his departure from the Sith sanctum, he had already applied some medpacs and appeared as though nothing had happened at all by the time she arrived. She apologized, and though it seemed like the sort of calm, casual apology one might give after having accidentally bumped into someone, on the inside she was screaming it, crying with all the emotion she knew she couldn't show. She was dying to caress him, plant kisses on any spots that were still sore, hold him tight and protect him from any more harm for as long as she could, but she couldn't.

That night Cipher found herself alone and deep in thought in her cramped apartment, a drink in hand and tears in her eyes. Her thoughts were interrupted with a gentle knock on the door. To her surprise, upon opening it, she found herself face to face with none other than Keeper, as if her thoughts of him had simply willed him to her apartment.

"Keeper? What are you doing here?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Cipher," he began, hurriedly making his way into the apartment as the door shut behind him, "I can't go another moment pretending I don't feel the way I do about you. I need you, I need you like I need air and water to live." He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Say you feel the same way, Luzie. I might be able to live out the rest of my days in peace if I know you do." Her mind had become fuzzy, overwhelmed by the pleasantness of his scent and the warmth of his body against hers, but she still fixed her gaze on his deep grey-blue eyes.

"I do, Keeper. I love you, and I always have," she responded softly.

"Then let us say no more," he said. Before she knew it, his lips were locked onto hers, hungry for every bit of her. He made short work of her uniform, for within a matter of seconds her jacket was already on the floor and his hands were already busy removing everything else. Soon he was gently laying her down on the bed, and her body was alight with sweet anticipation. She had wanted this moment for so long.

And then she woke up. It seemed that even in dreams she would be kept from being with the man she loved. She clutched one of her pillows to her chest, knowing that by morning it would be stained with her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this a weekly thing, but life just sort of happened, as life tends to. You know what's worse than final exams for creative writing? Getting sick during final exams. But hey, have you also contemplated how and under what circumstances they managed to implement the Castellan restraints on Cipher? Stay tuned and buckle up, because that's definitely happening, and it's probably not going to be pretty.


	4. Calm and Restraint

While the mission on Tatooine had been nothing short of a headache, at the very least Alderaan had brought a fascinating new crew member to Cipher's Phantom: the Imperial Diplomat-turned Killik joiner Vector Hyllus, with his pitch-black eyes and steady use of the plural first person form to refer to himself. Odd as it all was, she appreciated him and the knowledge and experience he brought with him, and, moreover, it was a good change of pace to speak of the beauty of the universe with him rather than listen to Kaliyo's incessant homicidal ramblings.

Their work brought them to Hutta once again, where she finally took down the Eagle but learned her mission had not ended yet- it soon became apparent the man had a patron among the upper ranks of the Empire, and the traitor, whoever it was, needed to be disposed of quickly before he could wreak more havoc.

She didn't expect it to be Jadus, and yet it was as if she could feel him before the doors to the bridge flew open. She wasn't sure whether or not to be surprised that he was capable of such treachery. The Sith were the backbone of the Empire, she had been taught as a child. They held ultimate power over life, death, and everything in between, so in a way they **were** the Empire. But experience had taught her that it was the nature of the Sith to murder, destroy, and eventually betray. Only a Sith, she reasoned, could ever orchestrate such an elaborate scheme to destroy the very Empire they already fully dominated, and Jadus had already proven himself to be a self-righteous crusader, delusional in his belief that the Empire should be burned to ashes, and then, only then could he eventually realize his vision of a galaxy that knew nothing but fear.

Jadus had half the control codes for the Eradicators, weapons of mass destruction he had intended to turn on Dromund Kaas in order to cut off the Empire's powerbase at the head.  Cipher had the other half, pried from the cold, dead hands of the Eagle.  She had one of two choices: either hand over her half of the codes and allow him to fire upon Kaas City or fight him outright and hope for victory.  Watcher Two, cold and calculating as ever, had convinced her to do the former.  The lives lost in the attack would pale compared to the numbers that would perish if they failed their mission, she assured her.  And Cipher, a good fighter though she was, was no match for a powerful Sith such as Jadus.  Giving him the codes would distract him so that Cipher could sabotage the ship and ensure the Dark Council could kill or capture him and put an end to the Eradicators' threat at last.  And so despite her reservations, she handed over the code, putting her faith in Watcher Two's plan.

But Jadus was not about to make this any easier for Cipher.  To her horror, he broadcasted the final pleas for help on the planet's surface- the screams, the begging, the terror and agony of men, women, and children who were being slaughtered indiscriminately.  Her heart fell heavy in her chest, for as cold as the cruelty of the Galaxy had made her, she felt their agony and desperately wanted to stop it.  It tortured her.  This was her doing.  These people, mostly strangers but perhaps some not, had done nothing to deserve this, but she had put them in the line of fire.  Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back, knowing that the only thing she could do was cut the attack short by going through with the rest of the mission.  Even if she had already condemned so many to their deaths, perhaps she still could still save some, and that was all that mattered now.

Things went to plan.  Jadus was defeated and arrested.  Somehow victory was far from sweet.  The Dark Council had congratulated her on her success but now eyed her with intense suspicion for having the ability to not only defy but actually defeat one of their own.  Keeper had been promoted to Minister of Intelligence and replaced by Watcher Two, and he would find himself so much further from Cipher than she was comfortable with.  And the voices- oh, the voices!  How they haunted her, forcing her to relive every torturous second of bloodshed that she had caused on the only world she could call home!  The debrief convinced everyone she would be fine after a short leave, but in her heart she knew those voices would never really truly leave her.  The guilt would never leave her.  Luzamilla had been a woman who joined Imperial Intelligence to protect the ordinary citizens of her beloved Empire, but becoming Cipher Nine had lead to thousands of them dying at her hand because she listen to a woman whose mind functioned like a computer, devoid of compassion or anything else besides cold figures and factors.

With nowhere else to turn, and with no desire to face the disappointment in Vector's black eyes or hear the approval Kaliyo would undoubtedly offer, Cipher drowned her sorrows in cheap, strong local wine at the Nexus Room, which had by chance managed to survive the blasts.  In the small, secluded corner booth she had gotten for herself she drank and cried, drank and cried, drank and cried, until the world became a bit blurrier.  But the voices didn't go away.  They only became louder.  They pounded within her head.

"Cipher," a familiar voice called out, finally putting the voices to rest, if only briefly.  "Luzie, are you alright?"

"Don't call me that," she said, her gentle voice marked with a noticeable slur.  "Luzamilla is dead.  You killed her.  Intelligence killed her.  All that's left is the monster I've become."

"Don't be ridiculous, Luzie.  Monsters don't weep like you do," the Minister said as he sat down by her side and laid a consoling hand on her back.  "Don't tell me you've already finished that entire bottle."

"I may still be in uniform but I am off-duty as per your orders and you have no right to order me about, _Minister_."

"And I'm off-duty too, but that doesn't mean I can't care about your well-being."

"Are you here to try and save me again, then?," she said with a slight laugh.  "I don't know if you can this time."

"At the very least I can make an attempt," he responded.  "You were forced to make a difficult choice.  It happens in this line of work.  But I would have been a fool to let you work with us if I didn't believe you would be capable of handling them with the best of intentions.  You still have a heart after all you've been through, and that's something we need more of in Intelligence, otherwise we'll be no better than the people we're fighting."

"Do you know why I still have a heart, Minister?  It's because of you.  It's always been because of you.  When I put my life on the line I don't think of the Sith or the Emperor or even the Empire as a whole.  I think of the people I vowed to protect, but above all else, it's always you that brings me back and keeps me fighting."

"You're drunk, Cipher.  You don't know what you're saying."

"On the contrary, I know exactly what I'm saying, I just don't care enough to keep myself from saying it anymore.  I love you, and I always have."  The Minister pursed his lips as he contemplated what it meant to hear those words escape her, even if she was inebriated.  She the silence his thoughts had provoked with a surprising chuckle.

"What could possibly be so funny?"

"All these years," she said, the semblance of a grin just barely shining through her tears.  "All these years in love with you, and I've never known your real name.  I don't know much about you at all, really."

"Well, you can't possibly be surprised by that.  I gave up my birth name years ago, just as you have.  Besides..."  He trailed off hesitantly.  "I never did like my given name."

"You really won't tell me?"

"I'll give you a family name, but never the aristocratic rubbish my parents bestowed upon me."

"Well, spit it out then."

"Tarkin.  At least that sounds like it has some dignity to it."

"Tarkin," Cipher repeated, enjoying the strength and simplicity of it.  "It sounds like quite a name.  The name of some sort of great galaxy-shaker and world-mover, I imagine."

"I certainly don't expect you to use it.  'Minister' will do fine."

"Perhaps, but you will always be my Keeper, Keeper."  She sat up to lean into his chest in a bold embrace, which he initially returned with reluctance but eventually found quite comfortable and enjoyable.  All these years he had been severely lacking this sort of intimacy.  He had in his younger day done such things and more in the name of the Empire, but Luzie, he realized, had been the only genuine source of interpersonal warmth he had ever experienced.  It violated so many regulations, and yet he couldn't imagine wanting to do anything else but hold her in his arms just as he was doing now.  The scent of her hair drifted to his nostrils and intoxicated him while the slow, gentle movement of her breathing and the warmth of her flesh soothed him.  He never wanted to let her go.

"Can you walk now?" he asked after a long while.  "We ought to get you out of here."

"I think so," she said.  Clumsily she rose from her seat, steadying herself on the Minister's shoulder as she did.  "Lead the way, Keeper."

With her stomach churning and her perception of her surroundings still somewhat blurry, Cipher didn't notice where they were heading until their taxi dropped them off at Intelligence headquarters.  She took a few moments to make sure she really was where she thought they were and to attempt to process why they might be there.

"Keeper?  Why are we here?"

"Well, I couldn't exactly let you stay back in that cantina, and I have some stims in my office that you can take to help sober up and prevent a hangover."

"Won't other people see us?  Start talking about us?"

"At this hour there's usually so few people at work at all, and almost none tonight because of the attack.  We'll have more than enough privacy, trust me."

As promised, they headed straight for his office, though it was already in the process of being stripped of its more personal details to make way for Watcher Two.  Cipher sat on the edge of his desk as the Minister made sure everything was locked and secured to give them privacy and proceeded to retrieve a carefully packaged syringe.  Once again she started to cry the sort of uncontrolled torrent of tears that only alcohol could unleash.

"What's wrong, Luzie, darling?"

"Do the voices ever go away?" she blubbered.  "Their screams- I can't bear it."

"No," the Minister admited.  "Not completely.  But you learn to live with them."

"I don't want to, Keeper.  Please, if you love me..."  Her voice trailed off as she found herself unable to complete her request, but his eyes widened in horror at the mere implication of such a request.

"No, no, don't even think about that!" he said, pulling her close to his chest.  "You're young, you're strong, you've got your whole life ahead of you.  You will get through this."

"At least put me back to work.  Cipher agents don't last very long in the field, do they, Keeper?"

"Not you, though.  You are a survivor, and if anything happens to you..."  He regarded the syringe in his hand, knowing full well that he had lied to her and that this was so obviously not a stim.  But with her head buried in his chest, she would never see it coming.  "I'm so sorry about this, Luzie.  But this was the only way to save you.  You won't remember a thing, I promise."

"What?" she managed to say in the brief moment of confusion.  But before anything could register, she felt the sharp pain of a large hypodermic needle entering her neck, and the world around her began to quickly fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a VERY long hiatus brought on by what has arguably been the worst semester of my entire academic career so far, I'm happy to bring this new chapter and I hope the few who have been enjoying the story so far will stay tuned for more!


	5. Standard Protocol

Cipher Nine woke up still in a daze. She could feel immediately that she was in a metal chair, her hands restrained behind her back. As her vision began to clear, she realized she was still in Keeper's office, though some time had clearly passed, and the man in front of her was most certainly not the same man she had come in with. He was disheveled- a day or two's worth of stubble had grown on his face, and his hair was far from being in the immaculate style he always kept it in. His jacket was open to reveal a sweat-stained undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow. But the most terrifying thing of all was the deranged look in his eyes that accompanied his frantic pacing. He looked as though he had been given far too many stims, and bloodlust had overwhelmed him, turning him into a frightening, violent creature. When his eyes met hers, it shook her to her core.

"Good. You're awake," he said, his voice only barely recognizable.  He stormed towards her, and the closer he came, the more she could notice the unmistakable stench of alcohol on his breath.  "Let's try this one more time, Luzie."

"Keeper, wh-"

"Keyword: onomatophobia.  Engage thesh protocol."

"Th-thesh protocol engaged," she said, futily attempting to fight the words that were clearly not her own.

"You're still resisting!" he roared in frustration.  "What is it going to take?!"

"What is happening to me?  Why are you doing this to me?" she demanded, her voice bellowing defiantly despite her terrified state.  "I trusted you!"

"Silence!  Not another word out of you until I tell you otherwise!"  Cipher attempted to shout back at him, but to her horror, the only sound that came out were soft, barely audible whimpers.  He had somehow managed to render her completely voiceless.  The fear inside her grew even more- what else was he capable of doing to her now?

"At least that worked.  I'm going to take off your restraints, but you are going to remain absolutely still."  The cuffs came off and clattered to the floor, and yet Cipher was even more immobilized than before.  "Good girl.  Very good.  Now stand up.  Good.  Good..."

He refused to make eye contact with her while he ordered her through a series of exercises, for though her body was completely his to control, deep in her eyes he could still see her struggling, gazing at him with a look of pain and betrayal that pierced right through him despite all he had done to numb himself.  When that still wasn't enough, he shot himself up with even more stims, took another long swig from the liquor bottle on his desk, and took a moment to let his system absorb the cocktail of mind-affecting chemicals properly before turning to face her again.

"You're a fool, Cipher.  You're my best agent, but you're reckless, you're soft, you're an idealist, and I hate every bit of it- I hate you!  You want to love me because you're such a fool, but you have no idea what I've become, or else you'd hate me too."  He grabbed her by her long, dark mahogany mane and suddenly became all too aware of how close he had come to her, her full, soft, rose-colored lips but a breath away from his.  And her scent drove him wild.  He wanted her.  He always had, but now she was his, and his head was no longer cluttered with the logic that kept him from acting upon his desires before.  "On the desk.  Clothes off.  Don't make a single sound."

He had lost all inhibition, undeterred by any harm he was doing to the woman who had given up so much to be nearer to him.  The bruises on her wrists and neck, the blood between her thighs, the tears in her eyes- none of it mattered.  The room echoed with his groans of pleasure, but even more so with her deafening silence.  To lose control of herself had always been the thing she hated and feared most, and now she was trapped in her worst nightmare, at the hands of the one person she had loved most no less, unable to do anything except wait for it to end.

"Don't worry, I promise you won't remember a thing, Luzie," he said after he had finished.  "I wish I didn't have to either.  Shut down for now."

"Shutting down."

***

"That must have been one hell of a bender if you don't remember anything from the last few days," Kaliyo said after picking up Cipher from the Nexus Room.  "I was almost starting to worry about you.  Almost."

"Thank you, Kaliyo, it's almost as if you're starting to show signs of caring," she responded as they both stepped into Kaliyo's rental speeder, her voice brimming with sarcasm.  She was usually tolerant of Kaliyo's antics, having developed something that was approaching a solid friendship with her, but this was neither the time nor the place.  Everything ached.  Her head pounded.  And she didn't want to even think about what might have caused the bruises and scratch marks left all over her body.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far.  But hey, as long as we're in business together, I figure I gotta worry at least a little bit about you.  Besides, bug boy wouldn't forgive me if I ever let you get hurt."

"Do shut up and drive, Kaliyo.  I've never been this hungover before, and I had some pretty rough nights in the navy."

"Alright, chill, Agent!  We'll get you patched up on the ship and we're heading to Manaan for a calm, peaceful vacation, compliments of the new Minister of Intelligence."

"What?  You mean he's paying for it?"

"Unofficially.  He wants to see you relax so you can properly recover.  He's worried about you."

"That's... uncharacteristic, to say the least.  The man lives for rules and regulations."

"I'll say.  But I'm not gonna complain.  We're booked for a week-long cruise leaving from Akhto City, and then if they're not in a rush to get us back, we can just kick back,  maybe hit the casinos on-"

"Don't say Nar Shaddaa."

"Absolutely Nar Shaddaa!  Loosen up, Agent, it's gonna be a great time!  Of course, if you'd prefer, we could go to someplace like Alderaan, do some hiking and wine-tasting, that kinda good, clean fun that seems more your style.  I heard the beaches on Scarif are lovely too, if you're a surf and sun kinda girl."

"We may well have time to do that and more.  Something tells me they won't be calling us back to work any time soon."

Luzamilla was correct in her prediction.  In the weeks following, she would be having more fun than she'd ever had in her life, the sort of fun she could have never been able to afford on the salaries from her previous jobs.  In the back of her mind she still heard the voices of despair from Jadus' attack, but just as Keeper had promised, they faded just enough for her to be able to drown them out with other thoughts.  And yet something still felt wrong.  Perhaps she had simply grown so used to struggling to survive, to dedicating herself wholly to her work, and now she was doing the complete opposite, indulging in luxuries and frivolities as she never had before.  It felt negligent, but Kaliyo was always there to encourage her to relax and simply enjoy herself when it was necessary, and Vector with all his wisdom kept her grounded.

Their vacation took them across nearly a dozen worlds before duty called them back to Dromund Kaas.  By that time Cipher had developed a slight sunburn, which was relieved by the cool, refreshing air she had been raised in.  Kaliyo's complaints about the weather aside, she was happy to be home, just as she always was.  The market was still filled with the enticing scent of street food, exotic flowers, and imported perfumes, the avenues still abuzz with the sounds of life going about its daily routine, the skies filled with soothing grey clouds interrupted only by the occasional fighter formation, just as it had always been.  Having a career filled defined by chaos and unpredictability, the steady rhythm of Kaasian life gave her great comfort during the little time she had to herself on her homeworld.

Keeper- the new Keeper, that is, seemed all too eager to give Cipher Nine her new assignment.  Her task was to feign a defection to the Republic and infiltrate the SIS to find out the plans of notorious Jedi spymaster Ardun Kothe.  After gaining the trust of one of Kothe's agents, codenamed "Hunter," on Nar Shaddaa, she was finally introduced to Kothe and inducted into his team under the codename "Legate."  All seemed well until he uttered the words "keyword: onomatophobia."  Everything began spinning.  Something was wrong.  She began speaking even though the words were not hers.  Mind control.  Someone had turned her into a programmable computer, no different from a droid.  Kothe used it to keep her from telling anyone about their missions or about the controls, mercifully enough, though she knew it would stand in the way of her true mission unless she could find some sort of work-around or, better yet, a way to get rid of the controls altogether.  Still, the job would not wait for her to find a solution.  She was soon on her way to the graveyard world of Taris, the conundrum of the mind control pushed to the back of her mind as she pursued her goal.

Taris had gone well.  The rogue Jedi she had been sent to defeat, Force abilities aside, was no real match for her skill.  She had even gained an addition to the crew during the process to boot- a friendly Imperial doctor by the name of Eckard Lokin who, despite clearly being more concerned with his own well-being than that of the Empire or any other entity, was a skilled physician with good bedside manner and wonderful company to have aboard, fulfilling a paternal role that had been vacant for all of Cipher's life.  That he could transform into a rakghoul at any moment was of little real concern to anyone aboard, it seemed.  It was all a great success.

It was only after the mission's completion that the situation began to degrade.  While wrapping up a holocall with Kothe, she began to have extremely vivid hallucinations.  People and droids she knew circulated around the ship, but in the most twisted ways, taunting her, hunting her, terrifying her.  It was a terrifying nightmare that she could find no way to wake up from.  The last thing she remembered before passing out was the Minister of Intelligence, her beloved Keeper, putting a blaster bolt in her back.

In a sort of dream-state she was visited by Watcher X, the rogue agent imprisoned on Nar Shaddaa that she had worked closely with on her mission there.  She knew he couldn't possibly be real, perhaps a strange reaction to the chip he had implanted in her spine while working together on the mission, but hallucination or not, it was he that told her that it had been Intelligence that had brainwashed her.  He who told her to check for her records in the Citadel on Dromund Kaas.  It was the only way she would get to the truth, and perhaps even to reverse whatever had been done to her.  When she awoke, Dr. Lokin, Vector, and Kaliyo were all close by, worried but clearly relieved to see her come to.  She longed so much to tell them everything that was happening to her, everything that was so wrong, but all she could manage was order them to fly to Dromund Kaas.

En route to the Imperial capital, Lokin approached Cipher while she was doing some research in her quarters.

"Agent, may I have a word with you?" he said quietly.  "I take it no one else is listening."

"My quarters are probably the most secure space in the Galaxy next to Keeper's office.  Speak your mind, Doctor."

"Agent, you were... out, shall we say, for a few days.  In that time I did some medical tests to help determine what happened."

"And?"

"Did you not notice you hadn't menstruated recently?"

"I assumed it was the stress.  It happens quite often, actually."

"Agent, you're carrying a child."  Luzamilla's jaw dropped momentarily as the words sunk in.  It couldn't be. It simply could not be.

"How can that be possible?  I've got the standard-issue contraception implant, and, well...  I haven't  _been_ with anyone in quite some time."

"Something must have affected the implant's effectiveness then.  You're about a month along, by the way.  I also ran a genetic scan to see if I could find a match for the father.  Luckily enough his DNA was already on file Intelligence's records."

"And?  Who was it?"

"Our very own Minister of Intelligence."

"Impossible.  We promised we wouldn't see each other.  It would have been against regulations."

"If it's not him, it's a very close relative of his, Cipher."  He put a firm, consoling hand on her shoulder.  "Now, as a medical professional and a friend, I'm not here to judge, only to help you through this and make you aware of your options.  I also would strongly advise taking much better care of yourself if you plan to bring this child to term."

"We'll decide what will be done after I confront the father, then."  She wasn't yet sure of what had happened or what she would do about it, but she was already beginning to have an idea of it.


	6. The Bells of Life Day

Cipher had nightmares the entire voyage to Dromund Kaas. They usually involved Keeper, though he always seemed depraved and animalistic with wild, bloodshot eyes and what hair he had left sticking out in every direction possible. This Keeper frightened her more than she could have ever expressed to anyone else. He would beat her, tell her he hated her, force himself onto her. The dreams became so vivid that she began avoiding sleep altogether, often pacing frantically about the ship and looking through files on her computer long after the lights of the ship had automatically gone into night simulation mode. Lokin was concerned but could not voice it openly, for he had sworn to keep her condition secret until Cipher herself decided the time was right to tell the crew of it.

The first thing that struck Cipher upon landing on Dromund Kaas was how chilly the air was, and upon stepping outside she found the ground covered by a gentle coat of pure, white snow.The jungle trees had lost much of their foliage, and many of the beasts laid quiet until warmer weather would stir them once more.

Life Day.Cipher had been so distracted by everything she had forgotten it was almost Life Day.  But it made sense- why else would Kothe have given her so much time off?The warm notes of holiday carols drifted through the streets along with the scent of spiced ciders, children laughed and ran through the plaza throwing snowballs at each other, and even the Sith passing by seemed somewhat more cheerful.The cold air brought a rosy color into her cheeks and nose.She had always loved the way the winters here would be cold enough to nip at her features yet still be mild enough to keep it from being painful.

A child’s stray snowball hit her in the back.Upon noticing Luzamilla’s Imperial uniform, the thrower froze in horror, but she merely shot him a small smile, knelt to the ground to form a new snowball, and gently tossed it at him, sparking a short, playful battle between her, four or five young children, and Dr. Lokin, who was accompanying her to the Citadel.When it was over, Cipher was laughing more than she had in years.None was happier than Lokin, however.His main priority was seeing Cipher in a state of health and happiness for the sake of the child she was carrying.Such a moment to let her guard down and play was precisely what she required.

By the time they reached the Citadel, however, both smiles had faded.It was a natural reaction to the imposing structure.  Joy was an extremely scarce commodity within its walls, and the holiday cheer of the outside world seemed unable to penetrate it at all.  Cipher cooly bluffed her way into the archives with assistance from Lokin, then proceeded to fake a power surge that shut it down.  A few destroyed security droids and holofiles later, she had the information she had come for.  Castellan restraints, they called it.  It took three to thirty days for a special serum to rewire the brain, and then the subject would be ready for reprogramming.  It was irreversible.  A new keyword could be made if the process were repeated, though the effects of the serum would become detrimental after repeated use.  The serum's primary ingredient came from Quesh.  The Minister of Intelligence himself had ordered it because, in his words, no operative should be able to confront a Sith lord like she had.  It didn't matter to them that she had saved countless lives and defeated Jadus for the good of the Empire, thus allowing the Dark Council to punish him for his crimes- it mattered that she could defeat him at all.  Her heart began to sink in her chest, and her head began to swirl.  She had given her entire being to Intelligence, and had pledged unquestioning loyalty to the Empire in the oath she swore upon enlisting in the Navy before then.  She had a flawless record.  She had remained true to her oath.  And this was how she was repaid- with the freedom over her own mind had been taken from her by the man she had loved and trusted most.

Cipher's mind began to drift back to the week after she had defeated Jadus.  One of the last things she had remembered before waking up sick as a kath hound at the Nexus Room had been drunkenly crying on Keeper's shoulder days before.  She had thought that her memories had been wiped by the amounts of alcohol she had been consuming, but now she realized this must have been when the Castellan restraints were placed on her, and that they must have been utilized to make her forget the process.  Keeper was the last person she remembered seeing, and as the father of her unborn child, he must have-

No, she didn't want to think about that.  The thought made her sick to her stomach, so she brushed it aside.  But she would confront him, let him explain himself if he could.  Kill the man if she had to, though she silently prayed it wouldn't come to that.

She bluffed her way out just as she had bluffed her way in, then called the Minister of Intelligence's private, unlisted frequency when she was certain she was far enough from the curious ears of her fellow agents and their droids and security cameras.

"Cipher Nine, what a surprise!  I'm afraid I'm quite busy, so you'll have to be quick."

"Minister, we need to talk in private.  Meet me tonight, roof of my building."

"This is highly unusual, Cipher, but I suppose it must be urgent if you're contacting me like this.  I will be there at 2100 hours."

"Excellent.  Until then, Minister."  She hung up before he could say anything else.

Not a single minute early or late, he showed up precisely on time on the roof of Cipher's apartment building.  His eyes widened as he approached her and seemed to recognize her companion.

"Eckard?" he gasped incredulously.

"Balthuff," Lokin responded, acknowledging the mutual recognition.

"You know I hate that name."

"Minister of Intelligence seemed a bit too stuffy and formal for the circumstances," the doctor responded with a hint of a smile.  "I'll leave you and Cipher to discuss things."  He walked away and sat himself down on a ledge a few meters away, just out of earshot.

"Well, Luzie, what's this all about?" Keeper asked.

"I know what you did to me," she responded, her expression colder than the winter air around them.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."  At this, she slapped him across the face.  He was stunned, having never in the years he'd known her expected her to do such a thing to him.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" she yelled.  "After everything we've been through, why in Emperor's name would you do that to me?"

"Luzie, you must understand, you'd have been executed in the blink of an eye if I hadn't agreed to it, and I couldn't throw you away like that!" he protested.  "It wasn't even meant to be used unless you threatened another Dark Council member- they and I alone have your keyword.  Since you haven't attacked one of them, you shouldn't have been able to find out about your conditioning unless...  Kothe learned to use it, didn't he?"

"Care to explain how he got a hold of my keyword?"

"I would, Luzie, but I can't!  It must have been leaked by someone else, but I have no motive to give that information to anyone, much less a Republic agent!  Darling, you must believe me!"

"Do you realize what you've done to me?  I'm nothing more than an organic droid now!  All my years of loyal service, and you destroyed me for it!"

"I had to save you, Luzie.  I never imagined it would come to this."

"I know you did other things too.  I've seen you in my nightmares, and..."  Her voice began to trail off as she struggled to find the right words for what she meant to tell him.

"And?"

"I'm pregnant, Keeper.  It's yours."  Keeper's jaw dropped in shock, and his mind returned to the things he had done to her.  He had beaten and raped her, stripped her of her dignity and left her with her autonomy in check, and the only thing that had consoled him in the aftermath was the thought that she would never remember any of it.  But an unintended pregnancy only made obvious his transgressions.

"You're sure?" he said in disbelief.

"Lokin confirmed it," she replied, turning her eyes to the ground.  "You wiped my memories of what happened, but that didn't stop them from coming back in my sleep."

"You must know that that wasn't me, then, Luzie.  I didn't want to put the restraints on you, and the only way I could bring myself to it was to drink and overload on stims.  It turned me into a monster.  I wish I could forget what I did to you, and if you hate me for it then I understand completely.  But you know I never wanted to hurt you, don't you?  I love you, more than I was ever able to admit before."

"I know," she said, "but regardless of whether or not I believe you, your child is still growing inside me as a result of what happened."

"Darling, under any other circumstances I'd be enthralled about that.  I have always dreamt of being a father, you know.  But this is not the moment for you to have a baby.  You're one of my operatives, on an important undercover mission, the Sith have you in their crosshairs, you'd be throwing away your career and quite possibly your life!  You must terminate the pregnancy, Luzie, for your own sake."

"I wish it didn't have to come to that," she said, a tear coming to her eye.

"I know it's a difficult decision, but I just want what's best for you."

"I know," she repeated, pursing her lips.  "Lokin already has the necessary pills for when I'm ready."  Keeper put a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

"I want terribly to settle down and start a family with you, Luzie."

"As do I, Keeper," she admitted, "but it would seem the entire Galaxy is against us doing so."

"To hell with the Galaxy then!" he scoffed.  Suddenly he dropped to one knee and took her hand.  "Marry me, Luzamilla.  Right here and now."

"Keeper, have you gone mad?  It would be against regulation!  You live and breathe for regulation!"

"They can't punish us for what they don't know," he said with a sly grin.  "Your Doctor Lokin can be a witness to make it official.  What do you say, Luzie?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed.  "A million times yes!"  She threw her arms around him and for what seemed the first time in her life cried tears of joy.

She called Lokin to rejoin them, and there on that bleak rooftop with the gentle snow swirling around them in their graceful dance, they hastily exchanged improvised vows.

"Luzamilla," Keeper said after a brief moment of thought, "I swear to protect you for as long as I live, to be there at your side no matter the circumstances, and to never stop trying to be a better husband to you, because I know you will always deserve better than me.  I promise I will love you and cherish you to the ends of the Galaxy, until death itself tears us apart."

"Balthuff Tarkin," Luzie said in turn, "I swear to you all the love and loyalty a single heart such as mine has to offer.  I promise to always defend you and fight for our love, even in the darkest of times.  I will be your shelter and your sustenance, and no matter what the Galaxy brings upon us, I will never stop loving you until death itself tears us apart."

"Then we are now husband and wife," Keeper said.  He gently kissed her, cherishing this moment that, though far from being beautiful or glamorous, was the most magical moment of his existence.  For that moment he could forget that their love was forbidden, that duty would soon be calling him back to his office and her to some distant planet for more sleepless nights and stressful days.  Their love had always been, and always would be, and neither feared that the other would ever break their vows.

As their kiss ended, their attention was drawn to the soft, beautiful sound of bells from somewhere in the distance.  A group had gotten together in the central marketplace to entertain the citizens of Kaas City with Life Day carols, the same songs that had brought such light to the dim winters of Luzamilla's childhood.  It was a commonplace occurrence during this time of the year, and yet for Keeper it was as if he was hearing it for the first time, the smile on his face and light in his eye testament to the fact that he had never truly listened to such songs before due to the laser-like focus he had always kept on his work.

"They're probably wondering where I am at the office," he said after a while

"Stay with me, Keeper," she whispered in his ear.  "Just one night."

"Alright, Luzie," he said with a soft chuckle.  "I suppose spending our wedding night together wouldn't be the end of the Empire."

"Oh, Intelligence is probably already on fire just with the time you've already been gone," she joked.  The pure, genuine smile on her soft, full lips was enough to make him melt.  She put a hand to his cheek, caressing the sharp angles of his face before standing on her toes to kiss him once more.  He responded by sweeping her off her feet, carrying her back to her cramped quarters in his arms as if it were a luxury hotel for honeymooners rather than the bleak dwelling of so many of Kaas City's underclass.

He laid her on the same shabby bed that he had made love to her upon once before, when he was still a watcher and she a young girl.  He still remembered that night clearly, how she had so skillfully assisted him in his mission and he in turn had rescued her from a miserable life in that brothel, how after that night all he wanted was to be with her again.  Finally, after so many years, his greatest wish would be granted.  There was a glimmer in her eyes.  She saw it reflected back in his.  In spite of everything, this was a perfect evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I mixed up the timeline just a bit here with Luzamilla confronting Keeper a bit earlier than in the story, but hey, we're already messing with the story just by shipping these two.
> 
> "Balthuff Tarkin" seemed like a rather fitting name for Keeper to me. Let me know in the comments what you think of this little revelation I've included!


	7. Keeping Up Appearances

"He's going to betray you.  That man is incapable of love, and both of us know it."  Watcher X was tormenting her again.  Just as in life, he was paranoid, always ready to see the worst in even the best of people.

"Shut up!" Luzamilla growled.  "I've known him since I was a child.  We've always had something special!"

"And you really think that makes any difference to him?  He's only married you now because you know what he did to you, and he knows how easily you could kill him for it.  You know it's far too convenient.  Besides, don't you remember when he was promoted to Minister?"

"No, what of it?"

"He told you his wife thought the position suited him.  But you barely heard it because you didn't want to.  All these years chasing after him, and you didn't even notice when he let slip that he had someone else."

"Shut up!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.  "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Suddenly she found herself awake, her back pressed against his bare, muscular chest and his face buried in her hair.  He was still sound asleep, his gentle snore and warm embrace soothing her back into a relaxed state.  It amused her he had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around her lower abdomen, as if instinctively guarding his unborn child growing in her womb.  For the first time in a long time, she had slept peacefully.  She felt safe.  She felt _happy_.

The night before had been the cathartic release of so many years of restrained passion.  Keeper, in spite of his age, still possessed impressive strength and stamina, and he had brought her to a climax multiple times, the whole time finding himself enraptured and enthralled by the beauty of her body pulsating with such intense pleasure.  In their hearts they knew that such pleasure could only come from a connection as deep and unique as theirs, not from anything ordinary or casual.  Luzamilla blushed as her mind replayed those vivid memories- his hands travelling across every sensitive crevice and curve of her form, the weight of his body against hers, the way their voices intermingled in perfect harmony as they cried out in shared ecstasy- it had all been so beautiful and carnal all at once.

But her mind shifted to the dream she had just woken up from.  Watcher X had been right, she realized.  The aftermath of Jadus' attack had all been a bit of a blur, but with enough focus, she could indeed recall his mention of a wife.  Her heart began to sink.

Keeper began to stir.  As he opened his eyes and his mind began to clear from the fogginess of whatever dreams had enchanted him, he pulled Luzamilla even closer to him and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  With all of her body now pressed against his, she could feel every inch of his anatomy, and the preoccupation began to melt away.  He was fully erect again, and she would not pass up another chance to enjoy it.

Neither of them lasted very long this time, being not yet fully awake and still worn out from the excitement of the night before.  Still, it was one more moment of scarce intimacy and pleasure that could be shared.

"Good lord, you're like a drug, Luzie!" Keeper said, still a bit breathless.  He studied her carefully as though he wanted to memorize the exact way she appeared in this very moment.  She was covered in sweat, her dark mane was in tangles, her face still bore smears from yesterday's makeup, and he loved it.  She looked wild, finally free of the stuffy uniform and utilitarian coiffure she had always been so proud of, and she was beautiful.

"Oh, don't tell me you're up for another round, Keeper darling," she teased.  "I'll wear you out."

"It wouldn't be the worst way to end my life," he responded with a smile.  It faded when he began to realize that something in his new wife's countenance betrayed some sort of worry.  "I know you far too well to not notice something's bothering you.  What's wrong, darling?"

"You see, there's the problem," Luzie said.  "You know everything about me.  You've watched me grow up practically.  I didn't even know your first name until last night."

"With good reason," Keeper remarked in an unsuccessful attempt to add a bit of levity to the situation.  "If your name was 'Balthuff Tarkin' you wouldn't be flaunting it either."

"I'm serious, Keeper.  If we're going to be a married couple, I don't want there to be secrets between us.  We've already gone far beyond what regulations beyond, and if we can't trust each other at this point-"

"I'm sorry, Luzie.  You're right.  We must always be open and honest with one another.  I suppose I should start by telling you of my other wife."

"Other wife?"

"Well, she's not really  _my_ wife.  I married her while undercover in the Republic to get closer to her."  He began stroking Luzie's cheek in an attempt to reassure her.  "Some of the more senior agents were around when I was on that mission.  It's a running joke with us, which is why you may have heard me mention her once or twice in the past.  But the vows I made to you last night make you my only real wife.  Don't you ever think I'd choose anyone but you, darling."

"I see," Luzie said.  Any other woman would have had her doubts, but Luzamilla hadn't become a Cipher agent without having done similar things in the service of the Empire.  She understood perfectly, and she trusted him fully.  "What about your accent?  It's not quite Imperial, nor is it quite Republic.  Where are you from?"  At this, Keeper let out a chuckle.

"Balmorra," he said.  "I grew up in the mountains of Balmorra.  My father was an Imperial officer and my mother a Republic defector, so I grew up surrounded by both accents.  I don't particularly enjoy my identity as an Imperial being questioned due to my manner of speaking, so I never speak with the Republic accent unless I'm undercover.  Unfortunately it does tend to slip out, as you've clearly noticed."

"I think it's the most adorable thing, darling."  She kissed him on the forehead, a small gesture of tenderness to let him know he hadn't made a mistake in opening up to her.

Knowing the morning was quickly giving way to the chaos of the day, Keeper got up and began to dress himself

"Tell me, dear, would you like to see Coruscant?  I have been meaning to do something about my 'wife,' you know.  It would be a good excuse to spend some time together where no one knows us."

"I'd go anywhere with you, darling.  Just say the word."

"Then pack your things and meet me at the spaceport this evening.  I've got some things to prepare, but I'll call when everything's in order."  He seemed to smile at himself as some thought or another ran through his mind and he was fully dressed, but revealed nothing of it to Cipher as he quickly kissed her goodbye.  "Thank the Emperor I already know her dress size," he muttered to himself as he left, a grin still on his lips.  He remembered seeing the perfect gown in the window of a shop near his office.

***

In all her travels, Cipher had never seen anything quite like Coruscant.  Endless cities she had seen, but nothing on the scale of this world that hummed with billions of lives and glittered in the sun.  But Coruscant, she knew well, was a perfect metaphor for the Republic as a whole.  Millions, maybe more, had come here in search of better lives, seeing only the shining rooftops and glowing lights of the upper city, but underneath it all were the crime-ridden slums where even the sunlight dared not venture, much less any sort of police force.  It was down there that these desperate souls always ended up, their hopes and dreams quickly extinguished in spite of how ardently they had burned.  This was the Republic- a beautiful facade hiding a rotten, corrupt core, where superior morals were preached and sensational promises made, but neither ever truly meant anything.  At least the Empire, for all its flaws, never pretended to be any better than it was, and for that Luzamilla could always cling onto the hope that things would improve, for who could ever solve a problem they couldn't admit they had?

But, she reminded herself, this was not the time for such thoughts.  She was a bride on her honeymoon, nothing more than an ordinary tourist here to enjoy the luxuries of the upper levels, if the lovely maroon gown she was wearing was any sign.  Keeper must have paid a fortune to buy it; she could tell immediately it was made from the finest shimmersilk, hand-embroidered with aurodium thread and tailored to her exact measurements so as to compliment every curve of her body.  Even the color was perfect, having brought out the deep, rich tones in her lips, hair, and eyes.  For all that anyone else might have known, she could have been a queen, and surely Keeper must have been her king, having chosen to wear a most elegant tuxedo that gave him a particularly regal air, but above all it was clear to all around them that this was a couple deeply in love with one another.

He had told her that he had tickets for an opera that evening, but before going they had to make a stop to take care of some business.  No details were given, and Luzamilla didn't ask for them, knowing that if he wasn't telling her, it was for good reason.  Their taxi dropped them off on a landing pad of a particularly opulent penthouse suite, and the young agent could only wonder if this might have been where they were staying.  The floors were beautiful Alderaanian stone, the detailing shamelessly bathed in aurodium, the windows tall and ornate, the furniture upholstered with the finest materials the Galaxy had to offer.  Never in her wildest dreams did she ever believe she would find herself in such a place of luxury.

Keeper was much less interested in the decor, it seemed.  Before she could say anything, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to a spacious bedroom, laying her upon the plushest bed her head had ever rested upon.  He wasted no time, rushing to hungrily cover her in kisses as though he had been starved of her.  She was giddy.  She'd never seen him like this before.  He made quick work of her gown despite the focus he had put on her body.  Her eyes rolled back as his lips began making their way up her neck, his hot breath inching towards her ear when-

"Luzie, whatever happens now, follow my lead," he whispered.  She snapped back to reality for a moment, but before she could finishing sounding out the first syllables of a question, she heard the whoosh of the door opening and quickly pulled at the sheets to cover herself.

"Well I suppose I should at least pretend to be surprise you'd turn up like this one of these days, you no-good, filthy, rotten son of a Hutt!"  Luzie turned her gaze upwards to see a woman about Keeper's age with a blaster pistol aimed directly at his forehead.  "How many years has it been, Jasus?  You disappear for months on end with no explanation, doing Force knows what, then you go missing for YEARS without even so much as a single holocall, and you think you can just turn back up in MY home with some whore?"

"Elin, I can explain!" Keeper pleaded.

"Elin Garza?" Luzamilla said in disbelief.  It seemed no one took notice.

"No, Jasus, you don't have a damned thing to explain!  If anything you need to give me a reason to not shoot you where you stand, you slimy piece of Sithspit!"

"Your wife is ELIN GARZA and you didn't tell me?!?" Luzamilla repeated.

"Oh this is just fantastic!  Not only did you bring a whore, she had to be an Imp too!"  Garza turned her furious gaze onto Cipher.  "You know how many Imps just like you I've killed?  I've built an entire career off of it!  Now get the hell out of here before I add you to my kill list!"  She didn't have to be told twice.  Neither did Keeper, apparently.  They grabbed their clothes and bolted out the door as Garza fired a few warning shots above their head.  "Expect the divorce papers to be coming through to you VERY soon, you worthless son of a Hutt!" she called after them as they made their way out of the apartment and into the corridor.

At some point during their escape, the two of them burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.  They stopped somewhere secluded to catch their breath and straighten up their clothes that had been hastily thrown on in the process.

"I always wondered if I'd face General Garza someday, but I sure didn't think it would be under such circumstances!" Luzie said with a laugh.

"Believe me, many agents defect when they marry while undercover.  You can see quite well why I was not among them," Keeper responded, a wide smile on his face.  He took a moment to observe his real wife.  The excitement of it all had put a noticeable flush into her face and caused a large number of stray hairs to become noticeable.  Somehow he felt as if he were falling in love with her all over again, as though he were seeing her for the first time.  He realized this would probably become a common occurrence, for she never stopped to surprise or amaze him, even with the most mundane thing.  "I love you, Cipher," he said.

"I would hope so," she responded as she draped her arms around his shoulders and stood on her toes to meet his gaze.  "You weren't undercover this time."  She gently kissed him, her heart swelling as he pulled her closer to him and she silently wished this would never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who needs a little comic relief? Me. I need a little comic relief. The author has been very stressed at university lately, and in the past week has has two exams, two presentations, a dramatic performance entirely in Russian, not one, but FOUR rejection emails from Lucasfilm's internship programs, a change in antidepressants, and a partridge in a pear tree.
> 
> Also, kudos to whoever wrote the fanfiction or fanfictions on here pairing Keeper/Garza. I saw what you did and couldn't help but play off of it.


End file.
